


Just below and buried underneath

by hellokerry



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Late at Night, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-11 23:52:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4457297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellokerry/pseuds/hellokerry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And suddenly, he's kissing her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just below and buried underneath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greatestheights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greatestheights/gifts).



> Written for the prompt "surprised kiss."

He's kissing her, Josh realizes, suddenly, in the back of his mind. He's kissing her and he thinks she's kissing him back, he isn't sure, because he's never put thought to this kind of action before. He’s always been slightly ambivalent. He’s never wondered at the implications or the mechanics of who's doing what, who placed what hand on who's thigh, the scratch of a nail as it grazes the back of his neck. He's never had to. He's always been sure enough of the situation, or at least the posturing and position of his hands.

Josh has always been a man of action, ultimately, but then again Donna has always been a woman of action, and so he shouldn't be surprised that they've found themselves here. Except he is. Surprised. Josh has imagined this sort of cavalier throwing away of the rulebook more than once, but he never imagined that his thoughts extended into her own mind, that they swirled and festered with the tension of unrealized possibility until her thoughts mirrored his own and encompassed everything.

He had touched her hip in the office accidentally and had known in that instant that it would be his undoing. He had meant to - what? - had meant to touch the small of her back, maybe, or just hover his hand above her body, hoping the static electricity might grant him the whisper of a thrill of a vicarious flirt with the inappropriate (they were always inappropriate, always flirting, and Toby had once laid a hand on his shoulder, this needs to stop and what happens if it becomes something you cannot stop, i don't want it to ever stop, Toby, this is it, this is my life and this is about the rest of my life, I swear). He had touched her hip and when she did not flinch, he had grown bold and splayed his palm across it as if he owned it, but he did not own it, he did not own her, he just employed her, and she continued to flip through her folder as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if her boss wasn't bordering on sexual harassment. As if he didn’t love her. 

And then, suddenly, it dawned on Josh as she leaned back into him ever so slightly and with purpose that Donna might want this too.

He had ripped his hand away from her as if she had shocked him - and she had in a way, shocked him, by forcing the realization to the surface when it had laid dormant for years, bubbling just below and buried underneath the stacks of paperwork she left on his desk that he felt he would never surmount. 

He's been orbiting her since day one on a long, elliptical path that brought him further away before landing him closer and now he's stuck in her gravity, an asteroid careening through her atmosphere. He's staring at the stars and then he's staring at her, haloed glow in the light of the moon.

In his office to the left of his door is Donna. Outside in the bullpen is Donna. She's in the hallways, ducking through the secret corridors of his heart and popping up at the most inopportune places: senior staff, meetings on the Hill, in the Oval Office and Leo is scolding him for not paying attention, in the breezeway to the VP’s office, between the lines of every policy paper he reads and then when he closes his eyes - blink, but he'll never miss her.

On the road in a sleepy town, Donna’s been driving them for hours. Let me, he says, and she argues, but she gives him the wheel anyway. Where to, Donnatella? Anywhere that’s not here. Maybe somewhere with a bed. 

Somewhere, Josh thinks, but right here is perfect, because you’re here and I’m here, we’re here together, the road stretching out into endless horizon of unfinished skies. If time stood still, he wouldn’t mind. Her breathing is steady as she leans down onto his shoulder. It’s quiet as she sleeps and the thought dawns on Josh that he could get used to this.

He stops for coffee somewhere outside of Tuscaloosa at the only gas station in the state that seems to be open. Donna stirs and he watches as she slowly opens her eyes, heavy and disarmed, noises he’s never heard before sighing in the back of her throat and arresting his heart.

“Where are we?”

“Gas station. Coffee. You want anything?”

“I’m okay.” Yawn. “Sorry I fell asleep. Thanks for driving.”

Josh is gripping the steering wheel, indecisive, but not exactly sure about what. Donna leans into him to get a better look at the time and suddenly someone is placing a hand on the other's thigh, she's grazing the back of his neck and he's tangling his fingers in her hair and Donna is kissing him.

Stars litter the night sky, but all Josh can see is her.


End file.
